Revelations
by PerfectMisfit
Summary: DouWata. Oneshot. /What takes place in the six days Watanuki is unconscious in the wake of a terrible accident as Doumeki stays by his bedside/


**i do not own xxxHOLiC. it is all property of CLAMP.**

* * *

_...  
_

"He will wake up soon,"

He takes the assurance with the grace of a rock as he slumps forward in his chair—Yuuko's confidence puts his feeble strand of hope to shame. The cook is swaddled under a mound of blankets, a majority of his body held firmly under the oppressive binding of bandages. His own clothes are tinged a dirty red and brown from blood, sweat and dirt - perhaps even tears, though Doumeki will strictly and obstinately deny that he may have shed some tears. As he shifts in his chair he swears he may have seen the faintest of movements from the slender boy confined to the bed. Now attacked by a blankness that is starkly different from his usual calmness, it's not a matter of controlling how he reacts but not knowing how to react altogether. Doubt, in himself, for the decision he made, is the first thing that comes to mind. As futile as it is to dwell on it now, Doumeki wonders if he was right to bring the injured Watanuki to the shop, as opposed to seeking actual medical help. Or was he right in hanging up on calling for an ambulance? Was he right to trust Yuuko, because as skilled as Yuuko is in this art of granting wishes, Doumeki is not one to trust those he has not seen in action. He can almost imagine Yuuko beside him, asking him to think; even if his intuition were wrong, if his choice was not the best one to make, would it change anything now?

Doumeki would never regret giving his blood.

Nothing seeps through his mask, however; not his doubt or his desperate need for Watanuki to regain consciousness or his desire to see Watanuki fully healed and flailing insanely at him once again. He shuffles his chair forward, inching closer to the unconscious boy, wincing slightly as the movement grates on the numerous flesh wounds he has incurred. His hand moves forward, the tips of his fingers ghosting against Watanuki's forehead, brushing against the tips of his silky hair. He wants to see those eyes open again, glaring in rage, petulant and frowning but softening as he notices Himawari.

"Oi. Wake up."

And he only receives a small moan, a grunt of sorts in response as Watanuki slowly turns his face away from Doumeki's hand. Of course, _of course _he shouldn't have expected Watanuki to mysteriously wake up as the command leaves his mouth and Doumeki didn't expect such a miracle, obviously. It's just that he's so desperate for something and it's _such _an alien emotion to him. Doumeki is calm and controlled, blunt and direct. He does not beg nor whine but—

But this may be a first.

He _needs _Watanuki.

_...  
_

The longer he spends around the mostly unconscious and semi-delirious Watanuki, the more he learns about the other male—like the way there is a thin scar snaking up his left hand and culminating at the base of his wrist or the little marks on either side of the bridge of Watanuki's nose from several years of being bespectacled. Actually—actually, everything about Watanuki is attractive, though Doumeki will admit no such thing to the dramatic cook. It's not quite beautiful in a noticeable way—it blends in exceedingly well and is often overshadowed by pretty girls or nature's beauty, but when he looks for it, Doumeki is stunned by it, because he's never seen Watanuki in this way before. Watanuki had always been just a friend (even though he vehemently denies even that much) whose cooking Doumeki savoured but the more vulnerable Watanuki becomes, the more trouble the bespectacled boy find himself in and the more Doumeki is forced to help him, the greater the desire within him to protect Watanuki grows.

"It's too quiet without you," Doumeki points out to himself though the comment is intended for Watanuki. The other boy is too far gone—tightly trapped in sleep's arms—to hear him but Doumeki tries anyway—he's never believed in giving up. He finds it odd that he talks about it being _too _quiet because he enjoys silence and the peace it brings, but he acknowledges—albeit slowly—that he has become accustomed to Watanuki's loud presence and annoying chatter; the absence of it is chilling.

Watanuki doesn't stir.

Not a single bit.

And Doumeki sighs once more, refusing to release the fragile strand of hope that he is clinging on to.

_...  
_

When Watanuki does wake up eventually, it's when Yuuko sends Doumeki out to fetch both of them food. Though Yuuko doesn't strike him as the responsible or the maternal type, it turns out that to some degree she is capable of household tasks. When he returns with _sukiyaki_ from a local take-out store, he finds her bending over Watanuki, smiling at him in a solicitous way he never thought could suit her but she pulls it off wonderfully. Without a word he hands the plastic bag containing food to her and she leaves him—no _them_—alone, understanding (maybe even more than Doumeki does) that they need to talk. Watanuki doesn't seem all that pleased to see him, though the faintest hints of a smile that play on Watanuki's lips tell Doumeki that maybe the other male isn't entirely _repulsed_ by the sight of him either. He takes a seat beside the cook, not on a chair this time because there isn't one, on the bed (to which Watanuki expressesindignant protest) with Watanuki's shoulder bumping against his.

"Where's Himawari-chan?" Watanuki asks, his tone weak but still demanding.

"She left about an hour ago," Doumeki doesn't sound disappointed or annoyed or upset—in fact he's almost pleased that Watanuki is his normal self. It's an indicator of his improving health. "She'll be back later,"

"Do you _have _to sit on the bed?" Watanuki asks pointedly but before Doumeki can answer stoically and refuse to comply with Watanuki's wishes with an "it's a large enough bed", Watanuki puts forth another question—this one soft-sad and almost worried with a touch of guilt that Doumeki might have missed if he weren't observing Watanuki closely.

"Is … is that the blood you gave for me?" It's only then that Doumeki looks down to his _hakama _and takes note of the giant red splashes painting the front and the hanging sleeves and it's also only then that Doumeki notes that he hasn't bathed in six days either—he's been that devoted to sitting at Watanuki's bedside and watching the gentle rise and fall of his hollow chest, uncaring of how time ticks by around him.

"Ah. It is," the archer confirms and as the words leave his mouth, the rooms grows tense and heavy and suffocating all at once. The air feels stale and recycled and Watanuki looks like he's about to choke—or cry, or maybe insist on paying for the healing of his injuries himself—but he's doing an admirable job of holding himself back. As emotionless as he is, Doumeki is actually rather skilled at reading people and when he picks up on Watanuki's rising tension, he takes it upon himself to placate the boy. "I want choux cream—and kanto-style sukiyaki," he states with a practiced indifference, as if he is talking about the weather and as if he is blind and oblivious to the numerous bandages that bind Watanuki's body which successfully mask the extent of damage his body has incurred.

"You didn't have to do that," In turn, Watanuki ignores Doumeki's words. "Give me your blood, I mean; I could have paid for it myself—"

"Ah," his voice rumbles as Watanuki evades his not-so-subtle attempt to not bring up the elephant in the room. "that doesn't matter."

"But—" Watanuki's protest is stolen by Doumeki's lips meeting the bespectacled boy's mouth in a gentle press—it's not out of a desire to just shut Watanuki up, oh _no,_ but he doesn't want Watanuki to feel indebted to him or to feel guilt or in some way anxious that he was to repay Doumeki. Donating his blood was voluntary and out of a _desire _for Watanuki's recovery and survival; it's not a business transaction or a loan, it's a _gift. _Doumeki wouldn't do it for anybody and Watanuki should know … Watanuki should know how special he is, how treasured he is. As awkward as this thought and this action is for Doumeki, he's always been direct and blunt—this situation is not an exception. And so, Doumeki is quick but uncharacteristically passionate, trying to fill in one kiss six days' (maybe even more—several months, perhaps) worth of feelings. The lack of resistance or attacks from Watanuki allows Doumeki to believe that maybe Watanuki harbours similar feelings or Watanuki isn't disgusted or nauseated by being kissed by Doumeki, despite being rather vocal about his hatred for the archer. Only when he feels words being murmured against his lips does he withdraw himself from Watanuki.

"You don't have to pity me," Watanuki assures him.

"I don't," Doumeki answers, confident in his reply—because Watanuki is more than capable of taking care of himself, but Doumeki finds pleasure in doing it for Watanuki.

"I—"

"I still want choux cream and _sukiyaki_," Doumeki cuts through and Watanuki seems to comprehend what Doumeki is trying to do; diffuse the situation, reduce the stifling awkwardness.

"Consider it done."

* * *

I'm not _entirely _satisfied with this piece, but I think it turned out reasonably well. Doumeki was easier to characterise than I thought he would be - in fact, the real challenge was Watanuki, though I think I've managed to get both their personalities right. Even though Watanuki is rather dramatic and exaggerates a lot, I think he's a lot softer in his moments of vulnerability and he definitely tends to try to not depend on others. Doumeki, though quiet, appears to understand people surprisingly well ... I've seen a lot of fics where Watanuki confesses/initiates romance, but I think Doumeki would be the less hesitant one; he's shown to be rather direct and now really reserved or shy about things like Watanuki.


End file.
